


The Moments In Between

by takebuo_ishimatsu



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Gen, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takebuo_ishimatsu/pseuds/takebuo_ishimatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of not-so-small drabbles chronicling the moments in between the scenes in BB & TDK. Gordon-centric & mainly his perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the crazy spacing, it came out weird when I pasted it into the box. ^_^0

**Back-up:**

 

“Come on, we need to get down to the basement,” Gordon motioned towards the other officers with his hand, starting back towards the building now that the bats had dispersed.

 

He paused upon realizing no one was moving, all of them looking at the entrance with uncertainty. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“He's not in there anymore.” Still no one moved and this time he didn't resist the urge, his eyes moving in circles behind his glasses. “He escaped through the back.”

 

Just as he'd finished speaking, a call came over the radio asking for any available units to help with a bad car chase. Apparently they were after a black tank. Now, who would be driving around in one of those?

 

Gordon gave them a look that clearly said _Well?_

 

Slowly, very slowly, they started forwards, content to allow the sergeant to lead the way. He did so with no little haste, not entirely certain if his pseudo-partner had had time to tie any bad guys up down there or if they were escaping as they stood there doing nothing. From what he'd seen of the other's handiwork so far, he didn't usually leave loose ends, but he had seemed rather preoccupied with Ms. Dawes this time around.

 

Not that he blamed him. Someone that looked after those in trouble was just what Gotham needed right about then.

 

“So, Jimbo, you say you saw the Bat.” Flass' voice made the simple statement into something more.

 

Gordon looked at him out of the corner of his eye as they entered the elevator. “Yeah.”

 

“ Was that before or after _you_ went around back?”

 

Gordon paused and turned to look at him directly, not wanting to give the impression of any sort of fear or worry.

 

While rumored involvement with the Batman could technically get him fired, the other had no proof, other than his own assumptions, and they both knew it. What there _was_ proof of was some of Flass' dirty dealings. Proof that might actually hold up in court now that things were changing.

 

“During, actually,” he said in a clear voice, almost daring the other to question him.

 

 _In a town this dirty, who is there to rat to?_

 

Though he wasn't to the point that he'd bet his life on it, he had a pretty good feeling that there was an answer to his question now.

 

Batman.

 

More than someone to “rat to,” the man was his back-up. Now they were two.

 

He could see the moment the other cop realized something was different, something had _changed_ while he was out making money with his mob pals.

 

Batman had proven himself to Gordon, and he would try to prove himself in return. His days of being intimidated by dirty cops were over.

 

Flass' eyes shifted away from his own in an effort to avoid confrontation.

 

“ Just checking. Come on, _partner_ , let's get down there and see what the crazies have in store for us.”

 

 **Polite:  
**

Gordon continued looking down the street long after the car (could one really call it that?) had disappeared. Turning around finally, he sighed, knowing he had quite a walk back to the station. He carefully rested his hand on his weapon and pushed open his jacket to reveal his badge, letting the few people around know that he was a cop. An armed cop.

 

It wasn't necessarily a bad neighborhood, nothing like the narrows he'd just come from, but in Gotham you could never be too careful. Hell, Thomas and Martha Wayne had been gunned down outside Gotham's Opera House and that had been _years_ ago, long before the city was the cesspool it was then.

 

Perhaps he should have asked for a ride?

 

He smirked at the thought of pulling up at the precinct in the beast of black metal, wondering if the look on Loeb's face would be worth it when he got fired. Smiling openingly, he imagined that Flass just might just pee himself if he saw it.

 

Gordon wasn't naïve enough not to know how Batman had gotten the info he'd needed to bust Crane's operation, the man had certainly hinted at it enough for even a rookie cop to pick up.

 

 _He'll talk to me._

 

In fact, thinking back on it, Gordon had to wonder if the conversation outside his home hadn't been more of a warning than information gathering. The Batman's way of letting Gordon know that his partner might not be up for full duty when he got done making him squeal. (Which was really a moot point since Flass didn't look any worse for wear to him. Gordon _almost_ felt disappointed.)

 

Perhaps the head's up was the Bat's way of being polite?

 

Lost in his thoughts, he startled a little when a set of flashing lights rounded a nearby corner, a mechanical “yelp” following them. He kept his hand on his weapon as the officer slowed upon seeing him. He couldn't see who was inside and he'd really meant it about never being too careful. It could be Flass coming to pop him while all his allies were busy.

 

“Hey Jim,” Gordon relaxed at the familiar face inside the vehicle. Stephens nodded towards where his hand had been a moment previously, gripping his firearm, “You expecting someone else?”

 

Gordon shrugged. “It _is_ Gotham.”

 

“No shit. Your friend seemed to feel the same way.”

 

Gordon frowned as he got in, turning to look at Stephens oddly, “My friend?”

 

It was the other's turn to shrug. “I was about ready to head back when I got an anonymous call stating you might need a pick-up.”

 

“And you came?” Gordon asked with some skepticism. Anonymous phone call telling you to go to a random street at night? Lord knew no clean cop in town would follow that advice.

 

“ Yeah, I know what you mean. But here's the thing, caller-id said it came from _my_ own cell number. Like, me calling me on the same phone. Can you believe that? Not even mob bosses got that kind of technology, even if they wanted to go to the trouble.”

 

Gordon snorted. “Great, so now he can hack phone lines. Is there anything this guy can't do?”

 

Gordon was certain Stephens had been around long enough to know that his annoyance was faked, but the other didn't call him on it.

 

Stephens shrugged. “Creepy and _highly_ illegal, but I don't mind so much right now. I don't like the thought of Gotham's 'last honest cop' walking the streets alone at night, especially in this craziness.”

 

Gordon rolled his eyes at the title before turning to look out the window, deciding it was probably a bad idea to mention that he'd originally planned on walking back so as to not take men away from the current crisis. And he'd have to be dying before he called Barbara at 3:36 AM and asked for a ride all the way across town.

 

He wondered if the Bat had known and that's why he'd done the calling for him. Really, by this point, he wouldn't be too surprised to find the other had mind-reading as another one of his many talents.

 

What did annoy him a little was the fact that he had a way to contact him but not vice versa. What was he suppose to do? Take out his garbage every time he needed to talk and hope for the best?

 

His eyes drifted up to the cloudy night sky.

 

He smiled as an idea came to him.

 

 **Newsworthy:**

 

He supposed he should have been expecting it. Flass had managed to work out their relationship fairly quickly and he'd been the only cop unaffected on the island, along with having a back-up antidote for mass production. There had even been witnesses around to see his exit from the “Batmobile,” as the press was calling it. Still, he wasn't entirely certain if there was any way to actually prepare for, well, _this_.

 

He shifted in front of the microphone awkwardly, wondering how he'd gotten into his current predicament.

 

Oh, _right_.

 

There had been only a handful of officers ready and able to defend the mayor so soon after the attack (all of the police in the Narrows had been cured but many had sustained injuries and were still quite disoriented). And, of course, the man had wanted to point out one of his known honest officers while accusations of misconduct and general unaccountability were being thrown around, thus having Gordon stand as one of his closet bodyguards up on stage.

 

Fortunately for the mayor, only a few questions were directed towards police incompetence and the direction of the conference had shifted entirely when one bold reporter had asked if it was true that Gordon had helped the Batman in his fight to save Gotham. Garcia had been all too pleased to shift the attention to what the GCPD had actually done right and had unceremoniously shoved him in front, telling the audience that they should hear it from the “Man of the Hour” himself.

 

Gordon snorted, knowing it had more to do with Garcia not knowing anything than his need to honor Gordon. He resisted the urge to shoot a look at Loeb, knowing the other had some explaining to do once this was all over. He'd tried to be as honest as possible and had explained the Commissioner his involvement with Batman as best he could, considering the man's clear distaste for the vigilante, even after all he'd done.

 

Judging by the momentary look of surprised when asked about it, Gordon figured Garcia hadn't been given the memo.

 

“Well, I,” he cleared his throat, “I did my best to stop Crane and help those in need, as did all of the Gotham Police Department.”

 

Unsurprisingly, the mob of frothing newsmen and women wasn't satisfied with his cookie-cutter answer and pressed on.

 

“Is it true you drove the Batmobile?”

“Why were you the only one unaffected by the toxin? Did Batman save you?”

“Do you know who the man behind the mask is?”

“How does your family feel about your association with the vigilante?”

 

...And the questions continued, getting more and more crazy at his continued refusal to speak. One person even asked if _he_ was the Batman, never mind the fact that they'd clearly been seen by others to be in two separate places. Hadn't that been the whole point of the car question?

 

He glanced back at Garcia, wondering how he was suppose to respond. The other made a “Go on” motion with his hands. Well then, if the other didn't want to help, he'd just have to wing it and hope he didn't get fired.

 

Gordon cleared his throat again and was amazed at the utter silence that followed.

 

“As I said, I did my best to help. Some of this help may have involved working with the Batman, as I felt at the time that the lives of those in Gotham were more important than trying to catch him. Following this incident, the official policy is still to arrest the Batman on sight. Thank you.”

 

He nodded to the crowd and then exited to his previous spot beside the Commissioner. The darker man gave him a look that promised a strong talking-to later, but the mayor had given him a pat on the shoulder as they'd switched places, so he wasn't too terribly worried.

 

 **Sketchy Promotion**

 

Gordon blinked as his companions all but seemed to slither away. He hadn't thought his joke was _that_ bad.

 

Turning around, he caught sight of the reason. Commissioner Loeb was striding through the doors of the GCPD and he did not look pleased. Following closely behind was a young man who appeared to be all but running in an effort to keep up. Gordon wondered at the large white thing he was carrying.

 

Was that a sketch pad?

 

Gordon got a closer look as the two stopped in front of him, his gaze confirming that it was indeed a pad of paper.

 

“Something you need, Commissioner?”

 

Loeb gave him a look that said he'd rather be anywhere else but there.

 

“I've come to inform you that the mayor wants you promoted. Congratulations, Lieutenant,” he said the last part as if it was poison on his tongue.

 

“Thank you, sir, it's an honor,” Gordon responded, not because he thought Loeb had anything to do with it (in fact, he'd probably been vehemently against it), but because it was what you were suppose to say in such situations. No one would ever accuse him of being improper.

 

“ I'm sure it is,” Loeb's lips curled in distaste. He continued after a pause, as if he _really_ didn't want to say what was coming next, “Speaking of honors, my request to form a specialized Major Crimes Unit was granted. City council wants you to lead it.”

 

“Th-Thank you, sir.” Gordon knew his eyes were huge by then.

 

Promotion and his own special force? Already he was thinking of who he wanted in it and all of the good they could do with their concentrated effort. He mentally shook his head at himself as he realized the first person he'd thought of to ask wasn't even an officer.

 

“Details concerning force-size, budgets, etc. will be faxed over,” Loeb waved the statement away, “However, at the moment, I'd like for you to have a sit-down with Richard, our sketch artist.” Gordon nodded and the other nodded back; they'd met once before. “It has come to our attention that you may just be the only person who's seen the vigilante up close and I'd like to get a detailed picture to add to his profile.”

 

With that, Loeb swept out of the office, certain that his orders would be followed. Almost immediately, the newly-minted Lieutenant was overcome with handshakes and pats on the back. He smiled thanks in return to each, turning back to the artist once it had quieted down.

 

“Well the, let's get this over with, shall we?” he smiled and pointed towards his office.

 

Once inside, he sprinkled some food for his fish, more as an excuse not to look at the other than because they needed it. Lord knew they probably ate better than he did, his workaholism causing him forget to eat half the time.

 

He cleared his throat but didn't start speaking right away, mentally weighing the pros and cons of lying and then unintentionally weighing the pros and cons of having a partnership with a man that caused him to do such weighing in the first place.

 

“So, Lieutenant, he's about 6'7”, 300 pounds, and possibly Asian?”

 

Gordon blinked at the other, pulled out of his inner debate to see Richard's slight smirk.

 

Gordon smiled. It seemed he wasn't the only one who thought someone out there was doing the city some good.

 

He nodded to the younger man, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

 

 **The New iPhone:**

 

Gordon cursed as he accidentally hit his thumb with the hammer, shaking the whole appendage in an afford to ward off the pain.

 

“Need a little help, Jim?”

 

He jumped at the unexpected voice, a slight blush coming to his cheeks upon turning and realizing Stephens and Ramirez had snuck up onto the roof without him noticing. He supposed it was better than Batman sneaking up there, at least before the thing was finished.

 

As silly as it made him sound, he sort of hoped to surprise the vigilante with it the first time it was turned on. Or, at least, pretend to surprise him with it. After the fiasco with Stephens' cell, he wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the other had been monitoring his phone conversations and already knew about the finishing piece he'd ordered for the newly-made MCU headquarters.

 

All three of them gazed at the floodlight at once, a piece of metal clearly shaped like a bat laying over its surface, ready to be pounded down into place. That is, if Gordon could just work up the strength to do so. Who knew attaching the damn thing would be so hard?

 

Still, he couldn't ask the shop to do it. The blacksmith had already given him a Look when he'd put in the order for a giant bat. If it wasn't for the man's known praise for the masked man, he might have skipped it all together and tried to make something himself. Apparently, Batman having saved the man's wife got him a discount. Who'd have thought?

 

“It's...Halloween?” he flailed for an excuse, knowing the light could get him in big trouble, whether or not the tabloids were lauding the other as a hero.

 

Ramirez snorted, “Not for another three months, Lieutenant.”

 

“I-”

 

“Save it, Jim,” Stephens waved off whatever he was going to say. He walked forward and held out his hand for the hammer, Gordon looked at it for a moment before passing his tool.

 

“We'll take turns,” he said sternly, not wanting the other to do all the work. He smiled in thanks at the coffee Ramirez offered him.

 

Stephens took a moment to observe what the other had started.

 

“Not exactly the new iPhone, but I suppose it'll do.”

 

Gordon snorted as he took a sip, “Better than an iPhone.” He returned Ramirez's questioningly look with a smirk, “Only one button.”

 

She smiled at the joke, “Not quite tech-savy, huh Lieutenant?”

 

“Not as savy as some,” he said with a small half-shrug.

 

He didn't need to explain whom he was referring to.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and maybe those following it, isn't as serious (relevant?) as the first one. A lot of the ideas I've come up with for the drabbles are more “What if” scenes & things I randomly thought up while watching the movies/talking with friends.

**Politics:**

 

“Lieutenant Gordon! So good of you to see me on such short notice.”

 

Mayor Garcia made a big show of getting up to shake his hand, something which anyone that knew the Lieutenant could have told him was wasted effort. Gordon didn't like politics and he liked those that made a big fuss out of nothing for the sake of politics even less.

 

Nevertheless, he shook the other's hand with a slight nod in greeting. The man was the _Mayor_ , after all.

 

“Oh, it's no problem. I'm certain the criminals can wait a few minutes,” he said with utmost politeness, not trying to be purposefully snide (that was Loeb's department) but nonetheless chafing at the sudden demand for his presence.

 

Garcia just gave him a knowing look in response as he sat back down, apparently going to let the other's barely-concealed annoyance slide.

 

It wasn't his fault, dammit. They'd just been about to go in for a bust when he'd gotten the call that he was to report to the mayor's office. Not that he didn't trust his men to do the job without him, but he'd been ingrained in the investigation from the start, and he'd really wanted to be there to see the look the perp's face when they came for him.

 

“So, I hear that there's been some technical difficulties with the lighting equipment?”

 

Gordon resisted the urge to flush, silently cursing the stupid line he'd thought up when he'd been unsuspectingly accosted by reporters. He really should have taken the time to think up a better story. Hell, he could have said Batman put it there himself. Considering some of the rumors the vigilante already had going, he doubted anyone would have questioned it.

 

“Yes, well, I've been trying to fix it myself, as I'm certain you've heard on the news. I've just been a little preoccupied as of late. I'll make sure to send someone up to deal with it later today.”

 

Gordon resisted the urge to sigh. So much for his Bat-Phone...Bat-Light...Bat-Signal?

 

Garcia waved his hand, “No, no, that won't be necessary. Take your time. I wouldn't want to take any men away from anything important. Besides, that's not what I called you down here for anyway,” the other leaned in closer before continuing, “This Bat character, what do you think the likelihood is that he'd agree to a paying job?”

 

Gordon just stared for a moment before an amused smile came to his face.

 

“Well, sir, if I may be blunt, I think he might be insulted if you asked.”

 

Garcia leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “I figured you'd say that.”

 

Gordon smiled again. He didn't like politics, but he just might come to like the man.

 

 **eBay:**

 

“Any questions?” Loeb looked around the room, his gaze just daring anyone to take him up on his offer.

 

Gordon dared, raising his hand politely, though he wasn't surprised when the Commissioner's gaze initially passed over him. Then passed over him again. Then once more for good measure.

 

Finally, when it became apparent to the darker-skinned man that the other wasn't going to put his hand down and he couldn't just keep ignoring him, he finally sighed out, “Yes, Gordon?”

 

“Well, sir, it seems to me like this plan as quite a few flaws, ones that could cost us a number of lives needlessly.”

 

Loeb gave him a dirty look. The plan had been his idea; his way of showing the Mayor that they didn't need to rely on a vigilante to do their work. Gordon might have considered it a good motivational exercise, a way to show the cops that they still had what it took, if not for the obvious point that Loeb seemed willing to risk dozens lives if only to vindictively one-up the masked man.

 

“Oh, really, and tell us all your great plan, _Lieutenant_.” The Commissioner waved his hand around the room as he spoke, apparently trying to make the notoriously mild-mannered, quiet Gordon feel embarrassed about questioning a superior.

 

Of course, he didn't seem to be taking into account the fact that Gordon's fellow officers were at stake, as well as any unlucky civilians that might wander by during the raid. That, or he just didn't think they were worth the consideration in the first place.

 

That's where he came in.

 

“Well, sir,” he cleared his throat, buying himself some time as to figure out how to put it politely. The project was the other's baby and he needed to tread carefully.

 

“ We don't need the entire second SWAT team, for starters” Loeb raised his eyebrow and Gordon resisted the urge to tell him that Batman could do the work of _both_ teams if they let him do his part. Instead he said, “We could scout out the inside of the building so that we could send in the first team exactly where needed and possibly have less damage taken while we're at it.”

 

Loeb turned towards one of the men from Narcotics, there to brief them on the notorious Mr. Consorna and his army of pumped-up pushers, “Richards?”

 

“That's not possible, Lieutenant. The building is too heavily guarded. There's no way we'd be able to sneak someone in there. Believe me, we've tried.”

 

Gordon frowned, wondering if he should continue with his idea. Eyeing those around the room, he knew he had to try and stop the other's stupid crusade to make himself look better.

 

“Actually, I was thinking more long-distance. You see, I have this specialized device that can look through walls. Normally you have to get up close, but I'm certain we could modify it to our cause.”

 

Gordon fidgeted a little under all of the intense stares he received.

 

“And where exactly did you get this item that can look through walls, a device which I'm not entirely certain is even legal?”

 

Well, _technically_ , Batman gave it to some kid who gave it to Ms. Dawes for saving his life during the Narrows Attack, who then gave it to Gordon, murmuring 'He can make more' or something alone those lines. So, one could say Batman gave it to Gordon, in a round-about way, which is what he knew they were thinking anyway. However, he was hardly about to tell the Commissioner that, he shrugged his shoulders and murmured:

 

“eBay.”

 

More incredulous stares.

 

He just hoped 'eBay' knew how to modify the device, or already had one that did what he'd stated. That is, if he didn't just sweep in himself. Gordon was hardly going to hand it over to the Geek Squad to work on.

 

 **Public Relations Management:**

 

Gordon knew the instant he'd entered MCU something was up, though he didn't get the feeling that it was something necessarily bad. Instead, he found himself walking with the same alertness one might have on April 1st, his eyes briefly meeting other pairs as he realized his men were watching him. Watching him with _amusement_.

 

He wondered if it was too late to make a graceful exit. If anyone asked (namely Stephens) he'd just say he'd forgotten something at home – his badge, his gun, his socks. Anything would do.

 

“Hey Jim, someone's waiting to see you,” Stephens gave a slight nod in the direction of an elderly woman sitting right outside his office door. She was straight-backed and thin-lipped and seemed to be judging everyone unworthy of her presence as her disdain-filled eyes panned the room. To complete the image was the luxurious fur coat and fancy hat that just screamed money, meaning he couldn't just claim he was busy and hide in someone else's office until she left.

 

God, he hated politics and those with the money that controlled them.

 

Gordon sighed and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “Ten bucks.”

 

Stephens smirked and Gordon swore he could hear someone snort over to his left. He gave Ramirez a dirty look, just in case.

 

“Twenty bucks.”

 

Stephens shook his head, “Jimmy-boy, _Bruce Wayne_ couldn't afford to make me deal with that _thing_ any more than I already have.”

 

By this time, the woman had spotted the Lieutenant and was making her way over to him. Gordon figured it was probably both the first and last time he'd ever encountered someone in which their cane made them look _more_ menacing.

 

“Fifty bucks, final offer.”

 

Stephens seemed to consider it before shaking his head again, “Tempting, but no thanks.”

 

“Don't we have specialized people to deal with Public Relations issues?”

 

Stephens shrugged, “We do, but this seems more your area of expertise.”

 

Gordon had just enough time to raise his eyebrow before the other officer disappeared and he found himself standing face-to-bonnet with the little old lady.

 

He gave her his best boy-scout smile. “Hello, ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Gordon. I heard you wanted to speak to me?”

 

“You're damn right I do! Your maniac destroyed my Porsche!” Gordon's eyes widened as she waved the cane to emphasize her words. This time he was positive he heard a concealed snicker come from Ramirez's general direction.

 

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but if you have some sort of complaint against the GCPD, you'll have to take it up with the-”

 

“I'm not complaining about the Police, you ingrate! It's your damn giant bat-wannabe! He destroyed my precious baby in his latest _rescue_.”

 

“I'm very sorry to hear that, ma'am, and I assure you we're doing our very best to catch-”

 

She cut in again, both with her words and her cane, and Gordon was beginning to worry about what he was going to tell his wife when he wound up in the hospital. His dear old friend Stephens would probably tell her he'd had a “near-death experience by Grandbo.”

 

“Catch him! I don't care if you kill him or kiss him! I just want my car replaced.”

 

Gordon ran a worried hand through his hair, wondering if it was too soon to ask for a raise.

 

“Ma'am, you do realize that the masked vigilante known as Batman is in no way associated with the GCPD, correct? In fact, the official policy is to arrest the Batman on sight,” she opened her mouth again and Gordon raised a hand to stop her. Her mouth formed a tight-lipped scowl in turn. “Frankly, I'm not quite certain what you expect me to do or why you came to me in the first place.”

 

The woman snorted, “What, do you think I'm stupid, young man? Everyone and their mother knows that you're the Batman's link. His _lackey_. Boy-toy, even, if some of the rumors are to be believed. All I want you to do is give him my card. I'm certain even you can manage that!” She stuck up her nose as she tossed a business card at his feet and stormed out.

 

There was dead silence in the room after that, the joke no longer the least bit funny.

 

Finally, the youngest in the room didn't seem able to take it anymore and he snapped out, “That cunt! I can't believe she said that!”

 

Gordon gave him a side-ways frown as he reached down to pick up the card, “You shouldn't speak like that, son.”

 

The rookie seemed to pout at the reprimand, looking down at his desk miserably.

 

“It's true, though,” Ramirez said. Several nods and murmurs of agreement went around the room.

 

“Shit, Jim, if I'd a known she was going to be like that, I'd have told her to take a hike,” Stephens apologized.

 

Gordon shrugged, “It's Gotham.”

 

More agreement came from the room.

 

Really, it was all Gordon could say about the situation. In his fifteen years in the city, he'd had drug-addict grandpas spit on him, angry mothers throw things at him, little brothers shoot at him, one wannabe gangster had even tried to _pee_ on him after beaming him with a can of ravioli. In Gotham you got used to the crazies. Add on the wealth needed to get away with pretty much anything, and people just got worse. Your average “good” criminals, such as Bruce Wayne, (who notoriously had more speeding tickets than he did one-night stands) were a welcome rarity.

 

“ What are you going to do about her, Lieutenant?” the rookie asked. Brians , if he remembered correctly.

 

Gordon smiled, “With spirit like that? Recruit her, of course.”

 

“ Oh God, couldn't you just imagine the look on Maroni's face?” Allen groaned in half-amusement, half-horror.

 

“Exactly,” Gordon shook his finger and winked as he said it, causing a few light-hearted smiles to appear. He caught Stephens' knowing look out of the corner of his eye.

 

He may be Batman's “lackey,” but he was still the commander of MCU and it was his job to take care of them. Even if that meant stopping the mysterious murder of one Miss Lampurott, as much as he'd (guiltily) enjoy seeing that particular report on _Gotham Tonight_.

 

 **Partners** :

 

A few weeks after “The Incident,” as those in MCU had dubbed it, Gordon opened up the top drawer of his desk to find a plain white envelope inside. One that had not been inside when he'd locked it.

 

Frowning, he moved a few piles of paperwork aside to find his box of latex gloves (because it was _Gotham_ ). He stopped himself just as he was reaching to put one on and instead surveyed the box for a moment, wondering how far someone would go if they were willing to slip a nondescript object into a locked drawer inside a building full of cops.

 

Better to play it safe, even if he was becoming as paranoid as Batman.

 

Opening his door, he called out randomly into the throng of working officers, “Hey, does anyone have a pair of gloves handy?”

 

Everyone froze, eyes darting around, and not just because they were looking for his requested item. He suddenly felt a little bad for startling them, knowing he'd feel silly if it turned out to be nothing. Perhaps he should have kept it to himself.

 

Then again, if it was poison of some kind and he got himself killed out of pride, Barbara would never forgive him.

 

“Here you go, sir,” Brians handed a pair over to him and he nodded in thanks.

 

“Anything we can help you with, Lieutenant?” Ramirez asked worriedly.

 

Gordon shook his head, “No thanks, I've just found something unexpected.”

 

Unsurprisingly, there were six officers lurking about his door as Gordon sat back down.

 

“Maybe one of us should open that for you,” Kasley squeaked out as he picked up the envelope again. The young officer blushed at the looks he received from everyone.

 

“What?”

 

Brians snorted at his fellow rookie, “Dude, you sound like a twelve-year-old.”

 

“Shhh,” Ramirez hissed at them both and everyone's attention snapped back to him as he peered inside the small space as best he could from the tiny tear he'd put in it.

 

He blinked as he caught sight of what was inside, carefully ripping it open all the way and turning it upside down to allow a single key to fall out.

 

“Well, that was anti-climatic,” Allen murmured. Ramirez elbowed her partner in the ribs.

 

Pulling out the plain card inside, Gordon smiled as he opened it up to immediately see the symbol of a bat on the top.

 

 _432 Parkview, #327._

 _Because we're partners._

 

 _P.S. You're bugged._

 

Short and sweet, something which confirmed the sender more than the over-use of the man's namesake.

 

“What does it say?”

 

Gordon flashed them the bat, his quirky half-exasperated, half-pleased smile on his lips, the one his officers had taken to calling the “Batsmile.”

 

“Apparently my 'partner' left me a present at 432 Parkview.” He decided not to mention the last part of the message, not wanting to incite an uproar when he wasn't entirely certain how he felt about it himself.

 

“Are you sure it's from him?” Kasley asked skeptically.

 

Gordon shrugged. Random note found inside his locked desk inside of his locked office inside of a building full of cops? Yeah, that sounded like him. He glanced towards his window, both surprised and not to see it locked once again. He briefly wondered how in the world one locked something from the outside when the lock was only accessible from the inside. Unless he'd just strolled through the building itself?

 

 _P.S. You're bugged._

 

Gordon pushed the thought away, deciding he probably didn't want to know anymore of the man's secrets.

 

“I suppose I could always ask him in person, just to be certain,” Gordon said to appease their worry, though he really planned to do no such thing.

 

Stupid, he knew, considering he'd just about called the Hazmat team over a simple envelope yet was willing to go to an unknown location alone without a second thought. He wondered if working with the Bat was beginning to warp what he considered “dangerous.”

 

He didn't fear what was in the shadows anymore, for starters.

 

Apparently the rumors were true as to just how bad his poker face really was since they call gave him a combined Look, no doubt realizing he was planning on dashing over the instant they went back to their paperwork.

 

“Well then, Lieutenant, I don't see why we can't come along. Unless it's a private party?”

 

\- - - - -

 

Gordon knew he wasn't the only one staring as he and two others (he'd sternly told the other four that _someone_ had to stay and mind MCU) arrived at #327, the boasted “largest storage space in Gotham.”

 

He tensed as he watched Nickelson carefully open the lock. Observing the other's work from a distance really left a bad taste in his mouth, but the officer had argued him into submission when he'd pointed out that if he got killed, at least he wouldn't be leaving behind both a family and a newly-formed division of GCPD to fend for themselves.

 

“Holy shit!” Brians gasped as they caught sight of the inside, before shooting a glance at his superior, probably remembering the last time he'd been reprimanded for his foul mouth.

 

This time, however, Gordon agreed with him.

 

Holy shit, indeed.

 

Inside the building was probably twenty, maybe thirty, brand-new police cars. Enough for everyone in MCU, with maybe a few extras.

 

Still leery, though not as much as before, Nickelson crept over to the closest car and yanked off a note attached underneath the windshield wipers. Walking over, he handed it over to Gordon.

 

 _Miss Lampurott pointed out that there has been some property damage._

 

Simple and sweet.

 

Gordon's lips twitched as it fully hit him that this was Batman's version of “F- You.”

 

He decided then and there that the masked man was perhaps not the best partner in the world, but he couldn't fault him when it came to the things that truly mattered.

 

Now all he had to do was talk to him about his scary habit of watching everybody.

 

 **Communication Methods:**

 

Gordon resisted the urge to hum as he ate, knowing it would only incite more jokes about his Boyscout attitude. Just _barely_ resisted it.

 

Lord, nothing beat a 5 A.M. triple stack with the guys after a good bust.

 

 _Riiiing_ .

 

Gordon slipped his cell out of his pocket as he poured more syrup onto his pancakes, not even bothering to look at the number before he answered.

 

“Lieutenant Gordon speaking.”

 

“Jim, leave some for us!” Stephens snatched the maple out of his hand and Gordon gave him a dirty look. His plate didn't have nearly enough sugar to make it to his 7:00 meeting with Loeb, great night or not.

 

“ _Is this a bad time?”_

 

Gordon sat up a little straighter at the rough voice, his smile wavering slightly. What could be bad enough for the Bat to call him?

 

“So you do know how to use a phone. I'd heard rumors but, well...” he trailed off with a shrug, even though the other couldn't see him.

 

Or could he? The MCU bug conversation came to mind. (That is, if you could call two half-hearted sentences and a grunt participation in a conversation.)

 

“ _Don't believe everything you hear.”_

 

Batman's voice was almost...light? Pleased? Gordon relaxed a little.

 

Perhaps he wasn't the only one who'd not discovered any new nightmares while out on duty.

 

“I know what you mean, I've heard you can leap tall buildings in a single bound, dodge bullets, and cover the entire globe in one night,” Gordon joked.

 

That statement caught his officers' attention and they momentarily stopped fighting over the last packet of butter to listen in. Though, Gordon noticed that Allen swiped it when Ramirez wasn't looking.

 

“ _Wrong super hero and...Santa Claus.”_

 

This time Gordon was positive that the Bat was amused.

 

Almost as if catching wind of the Lieutenant's thoughts, the other man gruffly murmured, “Loeb's on top of MCU with your 'faulty equipment,'” before hanging up.

 

Gordon put his phone away with a sigh before abruptly shoving in as much food as possible without risking sicking up in one of the nice, new police cars.

 

“Emergency, sir?”

 

Mouth still full, he shook his head.

 

Having almost inhaled an entire jumbo-sized pancake, he took a large gulp of water and got up, throwing down his part for the meal.

 

“Loeb's on top of MCU,” he gave as explanation. He took one last forlorn look at the left-overs before marching towards the door.

 

He heard Nickelson behind him, “Oh, I have got to see this,” and wasn't surprised by the presence at his back not a minute after. The other two were quick to follow.

 

He sincerely hoped the other wasn't up there destroying his only line of communication with the vigilante. The metal bat creator had looked at him oddly enough the first time around and he didn't want to guess the height of his eyebrow if he ordered another. That is, of course, if he wasn't already fired.

 

If so, he was saying “the hell with it all” and moving back to Chicago. Batman could come with him if he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all of the officers were real, if anyone's wondering. And, I don't have Montoya since she doesn't seem to be in the movies. Neither does Bullock? Unless they were somewhere in the background...
> 
> Anyway, what did you think?


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't quite as funny as the others (at least not in my opinion) & three of the drabbles are from others people's perspectives as they think about Gordon. The last one occurs out of the time-line.

**Special:**

 

It hadn't taken him long to figure out that he was being followed. In a position such as his, head of MCU, as well as the only known link to Gotham's very own superhero, he'd gotten even better at watching out for potential threats. Not to mention, his (so far unsuccessful) attempts at judging exactly when and where the Bat came and went.

 

Taking all that into account, as well as the apparent lack of skill of his pursuers, it'd only taken him minutes to confirm that he hadn't been alone when he'd walked away from the crime scene. It wasn't the first time, either.

 

What was taking a little more time to process was why he was being stalked by his own officers.

 

Surely by then everyone in MCU should have realized that he never “aimlessly wandered” off into the shadows. Even if Batman wasn't around, he never went far enough to warrant a _babysitter_.

 

Granted, he freely admitted that he'd been shot at numerous times while an officer in Gotham. Sometimes by _other_ officers. Still...

 

He felt a little insulted that he was being followed by rookie cops.

 

Glancing around, he decided that if Batman was in the shadows, he certainly didn't see him and it was as good a spot as any to confront the two.

 

“All right you two, come here,” he indicated with two fingers towards the corner he knew they were just behind.

 

There was a momentary stillness and he imagined their deer-in-the-headlights looks before two sheepish young men came into view.

 

“Uh, sir, we can explain...” Kasley trailed off, looking towards his partner in crime. Brians gave him a betrayed look.

 

“It's just, uh, we realized the other day that we've never even seen him, and, well...”

 

Gordon stared at them. There was really only one _him_ they could be talking about. He felt his lips twitch.

 

And here he'd thought that they were performing some kind of weird protection detail or an elaborate prank of some sort. Perhaps even a hazing exercise orchestrated by one of the older detectives. He wasn't certain if he should be amused or annoyed, though he was leaning more towards the former.

 

He kept his voice stern regardless. “So, you thought it was a good idea to stalk me?”

 

They both refused to look him in the eye.

 

“You _do_ realize that there are people out there who wouldn't think twice about actually stalking me?” They gave him hopeful looks, ones which he was careful to crush quickly before they got any ideas, “And I'm not talking about the kind of men who run around saving damsels in distress. I mean guys that wouldn't even blink at the idea of popping two rookie cops on their way to me.”

 

Brians frowned, “Yeah, but that could happen any day of the week, whether we were down a dark ally or on an open street in broad daylight.”

 

Gordon nodded at his point, “I know, but it's harder to keep track of real threats if I'm trying to keep track of you two. Not to mention, _other_ people.”

 

He looked to the sky, still void of the signal until he got back to MCU and turned it on. Technically, any officer with access to the roof (which was just about all them except the rookies) could have done it. However, it'd become apparent that his fellow finest thought it a task only meant for him.

 

Perhaps it was; Batman hadn't shown up when Loeb had turned it on. Then again, he didn't always show up for Gordon, so he wasn't certain if that example counted.

 

“Sorry, sir, we didn't mean to cause you any trouble,” Kasley said.

 

“Yeah, we just really wanted to meet him. I think you're the only who's ever really been face-to-face with the guy,” Brians followed up.

 

Gordon figured it was kinder not to point out that they were probably the reason the Bat had been avoiding him the past week. Instead, he gave them a fatherly smile.

 

“That's all right. Perhaps he'll meet you someday.”

 

He mentally shook his head at his own words, wondering if they'd noticed. _He'll meet you_ , not you'll meet him.

 

They gave him hopeful looks, and he felt a little bad for getting their hopes up. Though, for all he knew, it could be true. If he was gunned down the next day, who would the vigilante turn to? Or would he break all contact with GCPD? He still wondered about how he'd achieved his own “honor” of being picked as the other's connection.

 

“ _Why me?”_

 

“ _You're an honest cop. One of the few.”_

 

The other had admitted that not every man on the force was dirty. Gordon knew that Stephens would have done just as well, so why him? Luck of the draw?

 

He supposed he could ask the masked man, but he already knew he wouldn't get a straight answer, if the other even deemed to answer him at all before disintegrating into the darkness.

 

He decided to push the thought away, knowing it would lead him nowhere. If anyone asked, he'd just say he was special or something. Claim that the Bat had liked his fish or some other crap.

 

 **Matters of Trust:**

 

“Lieutenant?” Gordon looked up from his paperwork to see Det. Allen standing in his doorway, “I'd like to speak with you, if you've got time.”

 

Pushing his mess aside, he made a motion for the other to take a seat.

 

Sensing the other's uncertainty, he waited silently for him to start.

 

“Well, I suppose there's no nice way to ask this, so I'm just going to spit it out. Did you delete the evidence we had on Batman?”

 

Gordon's eyebrows shot up, both at the news and the not-even-remotely-subtle accusation.

 

“Of course not, doing something like that would be highly illegal.”

 

Allen gave him a scrutinizing look and Gordon didn't blame him for it, despite how annoyed the lack of trust made him.

 

He was Batman's partner, of sorts. He'd seen official partners do a lot more than lie and hide things for each other. Just last year, they'd had a case of one man actually killing a witness in order to protect the other. Such incidents were rarer now that the Bat had appeared on the scene, but it wasn't improbable, especially if one was thinking that the Bat was in on it himself.

 

“Sorry sir, I had to ask.”

 

Gordon nodded, though he wondered what the would have done if he'd said yes, considering he'd taken the issue up with him directly rather than reporting it.

 

“So, should we launch an investigation, then?” Allen asked. Gordon had enough experience to know it was a test question. The other may believe that he'd not deleted the evidence, but wanted to know if he'd support the illegal activity after the fact.

 

As much as he knew it'd make him look suspicious, he shook his head.

 

“If you'd like to look into it, I certainly won't stop you. Have a few rookies help you, if you want. However, I don't want any manpower diverted to it, since I already know what you'll find.”

 

Allen gave him a questioning look.

 

“Nothing. You'll find absolutely nothing. I don't know if you've heard, but this man has broken in and out of God knows how many places, hacked countless phone lines, including mine and Stephens', as well as numerous other feats that I can't even begin to wonder how he pulled them off. To top it all off, Batman not only managed to buy thirty brand new cop cars, but also move them into a storage facility without a trace. If he can do something like that on a _whim_ just to prove some point to a snooty old broad, what do you think he can do when he's actually trying to cover his tracks?”

 

Gordon knew he sounded a little bit like one of the fanboys, but he felt he'd gotten his point across. As much as some people might want him to, he wasn't going to waste resources hunting a man that couldn't be caught anyway. However, what Det. Allen wanted to do on his own time was up to him.

 

The other gave him a considering look before nodding. “So you think Batman deleted them himself?”

 

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

 

“And you still trust the man?”

 

“I do.”

 

“What if he goes bad? With all these 'amazing' things he can do for good, can you even imagine what he could do if he turned? How would we stop him?” Allen stood up in agitation and Gordon put his chin on his hands, trying to calm the other with his own relaxation.

 

The last thing he wanted was to get into a yelling contest with one of his best men about the Goddamn Batman. He did that enough with the Commissioner (though, more with snide insults and faux politeness than actual yelling.)

 

“Call Superman,” Gordon answered with a smile.

 

“Gordon, I'm serious!”

 

“So am I. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how we'd deal with him if he went bad. Maybe step up the investigation into who he is. Maybe hire another hundred men for SWAT. Maybe we'd build a joint church with the mob and pray together,” he answered, not entirely joking about the praying part.

 

“I'm not saying you have to trust him, or even me, for that matter. But it's because we can't stop him that I go along with him. So far, he has all the means to do whatever the hell he wants and he instead chooses to help out in one of the worst cities in the entire U.S. Even if he does go bad, I don't think we'd have the means to deal with him anyway, so I don't spend my time worrying about it. If we decide to part ways, he'd still do what he does and we'd still do what we do and all it'd end up doing is make both our jobs harder.”

 

Allen sighed, “I see I'm not going to change your mind.”

 

Gordon nodded, “And I'm not going to change yours.”

 

They shared a look before Allen nodded towards the piles of paperwork.

 

“I'll leave you to your work then, sir. Don't stay up too late.”

 

Gordon looked towards the clock as the door closed. It was about time to go turn on the light.

 

 **Trust Matters:**

 

“I'm telling you guys, I don't think we should trust him so easily! He _erased_ evidence.”

 

“Only evidence for his own case,” Ramirez pointed out.

 

“So that makes it all right? If he goes out and murders someone, it's fine, so long as he still helps us catch all the other killers?” Allen snapped back.

 

“I didn't mean that, and you know it. I'm just saying, the guy is a vigilante, and thus breaking the law anyway. He's got to have some way of making sure he doesn't get caught. He couldn't very well help from inside a prison.”

 

“I wouldn't be so certain of that,” Stephens said with a snort as he passed by on his way to the coffee pot. He was definitely going to need it with those two going at it again.

 

“So why didn't he become a cop, if he wants to uphold justice so much?”

 

“Because cops can't do anything,” Brians said absentmindedly, writing something on the report he was working on. He paused when he realized everyone was looking at him, causing him to blush.

 

“That came out wrong-” he quickly moved to reassure his fellow officers.

 

“No, he's right,” Nickelson jumped in, “Before Batman, Gotham was so full of _dirt_ , you'd think we were a farm rather than a city. Even now, outside of MCU, there's still a lot of bad cops, politicians, hell, even doctors, school teachers, you name it. The Bat doesn't work inside all the legal tape, so he can't be stuck up in it like the rest of us.”

 

“That 'legal tape,' as you so kindly put it, is what stops crime. Sure, you think it's fine for him to delete a few files, scare a few punks, but what if he starts going farther? What if he kills someone to send a message to the others?” Allen pushed.

 

Ramirez rolled her eyes, “Batman doesn't kill people.”

 

“Even if he did want to 'send a message,' I can't honestly say I'd be all that disappointed if Maroni suddenly disappeared one day,” Stephens added.

 

“Exactly what I'm trying to say! We let him get away with taking out a few mobsters and what's to stop him from taking out people like Miss Lampurott?”

 

“I wouldn't mind her going missing either,” Brians muttered. Allen shot him a look, and he went back to his report.

 

“So, you're going with the whole 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely' route, huh?” Nickelson asked.

 

“There's a reason that saying is so popular.”

 

Nickelson shook his head. “People also say things like 'Better to reign in hell,' yet not everyone out there is a crook. Besides, the Lieutenant doesn't seem to agree with you and my money's on him.” He nodded towards the symbol just then coming on in the sky outside the window.

 

They all quieted to observe it, as if it required its own moment of silence everyday. Considering the lack of calls whenever it went on, perhaps it did.

 

Allen crossed his arms. “Gordon's a good man, an even better cop, but his judgment isn't perfect. He can be-”

 

A shot rang out and they were moving before they'd even truly had time to process the sound. Side-by-side, the officers took the stairs two at a time until they reached the roof entrance.

 

While Stephens checked to see if the coast was clear, Ramirez hissed at her partner.

 

“I swear, Cris, if your bad-talk caused some kind of karma attack against the Lieutenant...”

 

“Shit, you don't think Batman shot him, do you?” Brians whispered.

 

“Let's go!” Stephens ordered and they burst out of the roof door, guns drawn.

 

The two men seemed to freeze in the act of Gordon offering hand to the downed vigilante.

 

Batman refused the hand, getting up by himself and starting to undo the straps of vest on top of his own bulletproof suit.

 

Gordon instead rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I suppose I should have mentioned this to someone.”

 

“You think?” Stephens snapped, putting his gun away shakily, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. “Shit, Jim, I thought you'd been popped up here on our own roof.”

 

Without saying anything, it was implied just who they'd thought had done him in. Only one person could have even gotten up to the top of MCU without anyone noticing in the first place. Well, two people if you counted the notorious Superman, rumored to have visited the Dark Knight previously. The Man of Steel, however, wasn't usually held in much distrust. Quite different from Gotham's own hero, who wasn't even thought to exist by some people.

 

“What the hell are you guys doing up here?” Nickelson asked.

 

“Testing,” Batman replied in a rough voice. Handing the vest over to Gordon, he gave the smaller man a nod before jumping off the roof.

 

“Not a very talkative guy, huh?” Ramirez joked.

 

Gordon shrugged, giving them his Batsmile.

 

“Maybe not, but he's a good listener.” He held up the vest, “He got us those new vests we've been requesting.”

 

“I think we're gonna need more than one, Jim,” Stephens said with a smile, taking the vest from the other, giving it an appraising look. It was one of the more expensive types.

 

Gordon shrugged again, “Oh, I imagine the rest will show up somewhere. This one was just for demonstration purposes.”

 

“He let you shoot at him?” Allen asked incredulously.

 

Granted, the guy probably got shot at more than they did, but to just stand there while someone pointed at you from three feet away? Perhaps he'd misjudged the guy. At the very least, he seemed to work well with the Lieutenant.

 

“I asked him if he wanted to do me, but he said he doesn't like guns,” Gordon responded, his voice saying that he didn't quite understand it himself.

 

Batman was a paranoid bastard, but he hadn't even blinked when Gordon had jokingly asked if he was suppose to shoot at him instead. He _really_ didn't like guns, huh? Maybe it had something to do with why he'd become Batman in the first place? Wife gunned down? Children?

 

Gordon stopped himself from pursuing that line of thought. He didn't want to know.

 

The man could take out a dozen men with fists alone. If anyone asked, he'd just say he thought guns were too easy. If he ever mentioned the gun thing again. Perhaps he shouldn't have told the others at all.

 

Gordon wondered when lying and withholding information had become his usual mode of operation. Unfortunately, he'd always played things close to the vest, and so he wasn't quite certain if he could blame it entirely on the masked man.

 

“He must really trust you, huh, sir?” Brians asked, sounding a little starstruck.

 

Gordon smiled. The kid had finally gotten to see the other, even if it wasn't what one would call an ideal first meeting.

 

“I'd say it goes both ways,” Gordon replied, looking up towards the signal in the sky.

 

He caught Allen's eye as he passed by him to go inside and the other gave him a nod.

 

 **Got His Back:**

 

Ramirez looked around, wondering how she'd gotten into the situation she was in. Oh, right, her mother was deathly ill and she needed money for her hospital bills. God, she hoped her fellow officers could forgive her one day.

 

She knew she'd probably never be able to forgive herself.

 

“So, do we go ourselves a deal?” Maroni asked, holding out his hand.

 

Ramirez hesitated, looking down at the appendage like it might light her on fire at the slightest touch. With the company she was currently keeping, maybe it would.

 

“What, you backing out or something?” Maroni gave her a calculating look and she quickly shook her head, knowing what happened to people who backed out of deals with the mob.

 

“No, I...I just,” she swallowed. Deciding she might as well get it out, she continued, “Are you going to want me to...kill anyone?”

 

“Wow, wow, missy,” Maroni held up his hands to emphasize his words, “I'm in the import-export business. I don't off _nobody_.”

 

He gave her another scrutinizing look, one which she understood all too well. Even though they'd come to her, the other would never admit anything to a cop. Not even a dirty cop, which she supposed she was then. Maroni was apparently smarter than Falcone had been, perhaps learning from his predecessor's mistakes, such as when Flass had testified against the mob boss to save his own skin.

 

She gave him a shaky smile, “Of course not, I must have misunderstood. What, with Dent giving you such a hard time. And...Lieutenant Gordon.”

 

She gave him a look and he nodded as he understood her meaning.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, press is bad right now. But, don't believe everything you read, sweet cheeks. Besides,” he leaned in to whisper, “Even if was to...off someone, hypothetically, of course, it sure as hell wouldn't be Gotham's own Honest Abe.”

 

He leaned back and spread his arms to indicate the men around him, “We all know who has the dear Lieutenant's back, don't we boys?”

 

There was some grumbling and Ramirez caught sight of two men with some bruises on their faces. She briefly wondered if Batman had done it, before realizing that if he had, they'd both be in jail. Hopefully. There were still some cracks in the system, and she was about to become one of them.

 

“I see,” she replied.

 

Despite the deal she'd just made with the devil, she resisted the urge to smile as she walked to her car. Gordon would never know it, and she certainly hoped that the Batman never figured it out, but it warmed her a little to know that the masked man was protecting the other even when he didn't know he was. Gordon was a good man. If anyone deserved a slightly-disturbed walking ninja arsenal as his own personal threat of retaliation, it was the Lieutenant.

 

 ***The Goddamn Commissioner:**

 

Loeb blew into his cold hands and rubbed them together vigorously, wondering where the hell the crazy bat-wannabe was. Light wouldn't be up for another hour, shouldn't the so-called “hero” still be out, pretending to be a police officer?

 

The unknown man had probably tried out for GCPD and hadn't made it due to his mental health. The nut had then decided to take matters into his own hands, thus proving the recruiting officers right in their assessments.

 

He made a mental note to have someone, _not_ Gordon, look into the application records for the past several years. The man may have fooled the public into giving him the title of “last honest cop in Gotham,” but he knew who's side the other was really on. He knew for a fact that the city's precious _good_ cop had lied to his face on more than one occasion, as well as to other influential people.

 

He apparently had the mayor in on his little scheme, the man himself having suggested that the Commissioner not go after the vigilante so hard. And Gordon claimed not to like politics.

 

He glanced about the roof, still not seeing anything. He didn't believe for a moment the rumors that the other just _appeared_ out of nowhere, and so kept his eyes glued on the emergency stairs leading up to his position.

 

He rubbed his hands together again, still cold despite his expensive Kashmir gloves, a gift from the young Wayne to go with his new overcoat. Even with all of his money, he was a good kid. He understood when to bow down to authority, and, when times required it, to show a little appreciation to said authority.

 

How else did anyone think the speed demon kept his license when he averaged three tickets a month?

 

Yes, Wayne was a good kid. Nothing like the crazed giant bat.

 

Where _was_ the damned Bat?

 

He eyed Gordon's “faulty lighting equipment,” wondering if there was some trick that he'd missed. Maybe it was like a code and he had to flick it on and off a certain number of times before the other showed up?

 

Oh, how he wished he could write Gordon up for his audacity, putting his own personal...Bat-Signal on top of MCU. However, Mayor Garcia had insisted that it was a subject better left alone, pointing out that they had no proof that Gordon had ever even used the light. Loeb bet he could dust the thing and find the Lieutenant's fingerprints all over it, but he understood the implied order.

 

Gordon was to remain the GCPD's shining poster boy, at least until Loeb found someone who could take his place. Unfortunately, with damn Dent bringing up cases left and right against members of his department, he'd not had much luck so far.

 

He jumped as someone cleared their throat behind him. Spinning around, he glared at the amused looking man of his thoughts.

 

“Something I can help you with, Commissioner?”

 

Loeb pointed towards the light, “Mind explaining this?”

 

Gordon shrugged, “Like I've said, we have some faulty lighting equipment. While our main floodlight is being fixed, I hooked this one up.”

 

He gave the man an impish smile, “Got it on discount from a party store after Halloween.”

 

Loeb scowled at him, “And just what do you need a floodlight for anyway?”

 

Gordon gave him an innocent look, one which they both knew didn't fool anyone, “To see the bad guys, of course.”

 

The Commissioner stalked over to the other and pointed a finger in his face, “You better watch out, Gordon. There's a lot of criminals just itching to get their hands on you, and I'm sure it won't be long before one of them figures out you come up here to play with your _Halloween decoration_ every night.”

 

He gave the other a look that expressed more than his words. Though he had no real intention of ever getting within a foot of a hitman outside of an arrest or court, (that'd make him far too much like the scumbag Maroni for his taste) the other didn't know that. There were people out there that'd knock off Gotham's Golden Boy without even being paid and he was hoping that fear alone was enough to keep Gordon in line.

 

However, the other didn't respond to his implied threat as well as he'd have liked. Gordon instead gave him a tight smile, eyes drifting up towards the symbol in the sky.

 

“Oh, I know, sir. You don't have to worry about me. I'm watched _very_ closely.”

 

Loeb felt as if the air was suddenly colder than it was before and he wasn't entirely certain if some of the shadows moved or not. Wrapping his arms around himself, he hurried into the open roof door without another word. He gave Gordon a parting glare just before he closed it.

 

He'd get the smug bastard and his dress-up buddy one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Whatcha think? I'm taking a bit of Loeb's attitude from the comics, though not nearly to that extreme (he either wants Gordon killed or at least have the crap beat out of him in some of the ones I've read). Compared to that, the rude bastard in the movies isn't so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what'd you think? I already have plans for about 20 more of these things, all little ideas that I thought of when watching the movies or writing my other Batman fic. I might do other characters when I'm done, not too certain at the moment. If I do, who would you guys like to see more, Alfred or Bruce? Or someone else entirely?


End file.
